The Infamous iPod
by chocmint101
Summary: John finds out that Sherlock is highly secretive of his music tastes.
1. Chapter 1

"Sherlock, come help me with the shopping." John called up the stairs to 221b.

There was no reply. He waited about 30 seconds before he decided it was a lost cause and just did it himself. When he entered the flat, he expected Sherlock to be deep in some experiment or just lying on the couch, but he wasn't in any of his usual places.

"Sherlock? Are you home?" John scowled.

It hadn't occurred to him that Sherlock might not be home, mostly because they didn't have a case, and when they didn't have a case he was the laziest person John had ever met. An idea occurred to him; Sherlock might be in his room. He hardly ever saw Sherlock go in there. He certainly didn't sleep there; when his brain just couldn't function any longer he usually just crashed wherever he was, whether it be on the couch or slumped over an experiment. The latter had always worried John; Sherlock knocking over dangerous chemicals in his sleep would not be good.

John nocked on the door, quite softly so that if Sherlock were asleep he wouldn't wake him. There was no reply. He opened the door a crack to see if he was actually in there. Well, he wasn't sleeping. He was lying on his back on the bed. Earphones in and humming under his breath. John smiled. He hadn't even known that Sherlock owned an iPod. John started to wonder exactly what kind of music the detective liked to listen to. He strained his ears, trying to catch the tune he was humming. Unconsciously, John took a step forward, desperately trying to hear what was playing. He didn't know there was a loose floorboard however; so when he put his foot down, a loud creak sounded.

Sherlock opened his eyes, startled. He tore the earphones out and sat up.

"How long have you been there?" Sherlock asked, sounding suspicious. He really had no need to be, he was always so defensive.

"Not long, I just came in to see if you were home. What are you listening to?" John questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Music." Sherlock said with a sneer.

"Yeah, I know that. I meant what song, you numpty."

Sherlock gave a small snort at the word numpty. John had to admit, it wasn't a word he used often, but it had a nice ring to it.

"Not important. Do we have a case yet? I'm getting bored."

John sighed. Stubborn until the very end, he supposed.

"Lestrade hasn't called yet, so no. Just relax, go back to listening to your music. You can play it out loud if you want, I don't mind."

"No, it's fine. Trust me, we don't have the same taste in music."

"Well let's see, what's on that thing?" John said while walking over towards Sherlock, hand outstretched.

Sherlock moved as quickly as he did when they were chasing after a murder; he bounded off the bed, iPod in hand.

"What was all that for? It wasn't like I was going to snatch it out of your hands or anything."

"No reason, I just don't like people looking at my music."

"Why? Come on, you can't have anything that bad on there. I'm sure we have at least one or two bands in common. It's not like you like some horrible teen pop singer or something. is it?" John said with a snort.

Sherlock looked absolutely scandalized at the thought.

"Of course not! I said that we don't share the same taste, not that my music would make your ears bleed."

John gave a slight chuckle at that.

"Don't worry, I know you better than that. Though I obviously don't know you well enough to know your music tastes. Come on Sherlock, I'm really curious now. What do you have on that thing?"

Even though he had said he wasn't going to snatch it out of Sherlock's hands, the opportunity was too good to pass up. He lunged for it. John had always been good in a fight, even before the army. He may be smaller than average, but he was strong. Strength didn't seem to matter in this fight however, because as soon as he reached for the iPod, Sherlock stretched his arm as far above his head as it would go while balancing on his toes. John jumped, but he was still too damn short.

"Oh come on! That's not fair. I could just tackle you to the ground you know." He threatened.

It didn't sound all that menacing though; he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Before you even took your first step, I would have thrown this infernal device out of the open window." Sherlock said, his voice completely monotone.

John put his hands up as a sign of surrender.

"Ok, fine. Be a stubborn git for all I care. "

As John walked into the kitchen, he smiled to himself. This isn't over, not by a long shot.


	2. Chapter 2

John would normally just let what happened with Sherlock the other day go, but his curiosity was piqued. To be honest, he had never thought about what sort of music Sherlock listened to. He figured it would be too repetitive and "boring" for him; but now that he knew that Sherlock had an iPod, he couldn't stop speculating.

"If you're thinking of searching for that stupid iPod, forget about it; you'll never find it." Sherlock called across the room.

John just laughed.

"What, it's not in your slipper with your cigarettes? Damn, that was the first place I was going to look." He mocked.

Sherlock scowled. "No, it's not in that damn slipper. It's somewhere where you can't get it."

"Ok! Jesus, I'm just trying to have a bit of fun. You're not the only one who gets bored when we don't have a case, you know." John sighed.

"I have to ask, this can't just be about the fact that you're self conscious of your music taste." John held up a hand when it looked like Sherlock was going to speak. "Let me finish. Why won't you let me see your songs? You do realise I will see them eventually, don't you? You're not the only one who can deduce things. I bet I can find it in a week, and if not I'll promise to stop looking. For good. Deal?"

Sherlock waited almost 5 minutes before replying. John got up to make some tea before he heard him say "Deal."

John smirked as he set down his tea. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Ok, how about this. I ask you a question that could lead to me finding it and you get to ask me anything in return. And I do mean anything. I would be a good way to pass the time."

Sherlock hesitated. "I suppose. Well, go on. Ask away."

"How about this? When you were growing up, did you hide things often?"

"Of course. In fact, I think there are still a few of my experiments hidden in the old family house. My turn. How many people have you killed?"

"Seeing as I've set off a few grenades in my time, I don't know the exact number. In the 30's maybe?" John stared at his hands when he spoke; he wasn't ashamed of what he did, not at all. It was in self-defense; but it wasn't something to brag about.

Sherlock seemed to sense this and didn't continue with that line of questioning. Who knew he had some tact?

"Oh, I thought of another one. Are you in any way bothered by small spaces?"

"No, I am not claustrophobic. My turn. Since you are trying to find out about my music tastes, I'm going to ask you a question about yours. Have you got a favourite band?"

"Well, not really. I just tend to like specific songs, though nothing new. All that techno shit is awful. I do quite like The Beatles, though. And Coldplay occasionally, but their last album was crap."

"Agreed. I believe it's your turn now." Said Sherlock.

"Hmmmm, this is harder than I thought. I honestly can't think of any more questions, but when I do I'll ask them. I'm not done with you yet." John threatened jokingly.

"I look forward to your next questions. By the way, you were right, this is a much more interesting way to pass the time. And, seeing as you can't think of any more questions, what is your sexual orientation?"

Well, there goes his newly found tact.

"Two things wrong here. The first is that it's my go to ask the questions and – "

"You couldn't think of any, so I thought I might as well ask mine. I didn't want to have to wait three days for you to ask me another obvious question in a vain attempt to deduce where I have hidden my iPod." Sherlock interjected.

" – Secondly, I don't think it's really any of your bloody business who I sleep with." John just continued talking as if Sherlock had said nothing, a skill that was very useful living in 221b.

"It's interesting. And you did say I could ask you anything." Sherlock reminded him with a sly smile.

He should have seen this coming. Oh well, it's not a big deal, really.

"I'm definitely more inclined towards women, but I have been in a relationship with a few men." John confessed.

"I'm going to actually _look_ for your iPod, seeing as I can't think of any questions to narrow it down. All I've learned is that you are an extremely good hider and you aren't afraid to get into small spaces to hide things." John sighed "That _really_ narrows it down." He muttered.

"I'm not giving you any hints. You said I wasn't the only one who could deduce things, so deduce." Sherlock said with a cheeky grin.

"Ok, that's just strange. Sherlock smiling without having just figured out a murder, someone should alert the media. Maybe I should make up more scavenger hunts when we don't have a case if it actually stops you from wanting to shoot a wall." John joked.

"Are you going to go look for the iPod or not? What are you going to call this one on your blog? A study in iPods?"

All back to normal. John sighed.

"See, this is the reason why you don't come up with the titles. " Said John

"I'm sorry I couldn't think of such wondrous titles as "The Naval Treatment" and "A study in Pink". Those were real winners." Said Sherlock, raising his voice a tad.

"Oh, be quiet, you. I'm trying to think" Said John, at equal volume.

For once, Sherlock actually shut up when he told him to. This day was just full of surprises.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this took so long, So many excuses that are actually valid, but all I'm going to say is I hope it's worth the wait.**

Well, Sherlock certainly was a good hider. Three days and John still had no clue where that bloody iPod was. And in that time he had only thought of one question, and it certainly wasn't as thought out as the last two.

"Sherlock, I don't care if you classify it as an unfair hint! Just tell me, is it in the god damn kitchen?" John ended on a yell, his patience wearing thin.

"Oh, for the love of… Just to put you out of your misery, no, it is not in the kitchen. Now quit bothering me, I'm trying to focus." Sherlock said with a sigh.

"Thank you, and focus on what? You're staring at nothing! What, are you taking inventory on your mind palace?"

Sherlock didn't bother to respond, he just glared at John. Both of them were at their wits end. It had been far too long since they had had a proper case.

Ok, so it wasn't in the kitchen and it wasn't in Johns' bedroom either. That had been the first place John had looked, thinking that Sherlock was being sneaky by hiding it in plain sight. It was proving exceedingly difficult to out smart Sherlock Holmes.

Oh, but there was a way to make this fun again.

"Sherlock?" John called out from the kitchen.

"What?" Said Sherlock.

"Fancy going out for a pint tonight?" John asked casually.

"What?"

"A pint, down at a pub. You. Me. Drink. Any of this getting through to you?"

"Why?" Said Sherlock, looking suspicious.

"Because we haven't done it before and you need to get out of the house. Plus, it should be fun, I'm curious to see if you're a happy drunk." John said with a chuckle.

"Is this about having fun or getting me drunk?" Sherlock questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"They pretty much go hand in hand. Plus, I've got a few drinking games that involve deductions lined up." John hoped that that was enticing enough. His plan wasn't going to work unless he got Sherlock totally smashed.

"You're just going to continue to nag me about this until I say yes, aren't you?" Asked Sherlock.

"Probably, yeah. But that's never helped my case before. Not in the mood to argue?" John asked. Maybe Sherlock actually needed a drink for once. He couldn't have thought this plan up at a better time.

"Not particularly. Fine, I'll come. I'm not going to make a habit of it though." Sherlock warned.

John began to worry, Sherlock seemed depressed, and not just from their lack of a case. Something else was going on. Well, John thought, might as well incorporate finding out what into the plan.

John chose to ignore it for now; it was nothing that couldn't wait a few hours.

"Ok, so we'll leave around 10. Is that alright?" John asked.

Sherlock made a sort of grunt noise that John assumed was meant to be a yes, so he just left him to his thoughts.

At 10:50 they arrived at the pub. Sherlock had had a breakthrough in one of his experiments and had told him to shut up when John said they were going to be late. Sherlock's argument was "How can you be late for a pub? Did you reserve special seats?" which in all actuality was a good point, but that was beside the fact. John didn't like being tardy when he could help it.

Still, it couldn't be helped, the only thing that could pry Sherlock Holmes away from an experiment was a dead body, and John didn't really want one to show up at the pub just to get Sherlock down there, so he resigned himself to wait and watch some telly.

40 minutes later, John's interest in Masterchef was waning. Looking over at the spray painted smiley face, John entertained the idea of adding more bullet holes to it, but his boredom wasn't that severe. Yet.

"Are you done yet? Jesus, are you sure your experiment is not "see how long it takes for John Watson to reach maximum boredom levels and start shooting things."

"Well, that is a rather interesting idea for and experiment, but no, that is not what I am trying to do." Sherlock sighed, "Come on, let's go, there's not much more I can do with this experiment."

"Ok, good." John said enthusiastically as he grabbed his coat.

"I really don't see why you're so keen to go to a bar with me, I highly doubt that I am the ideal drinking partner." Sherlock muttered.

John looped his arm through Sherlock's without even thinking about it, surprising even himself.

"Come on, I put up with your violin at ungodly hours and various body parts in the fridge, I really don't think you being a depressing or annoying drunk will drive me away, do you?"

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see" Sherlock said under his breath.


End file.
